


Ratty Clothes and Metal Make the World Make Sense

by mggislife2789 (dontshootmespence)



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Brownies, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Slight Angst, Metallica References, Season 1 Spencer Reid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:17:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22136494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontshootmespence/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Spencer comes home to his girlfriend after a rough case. Y/N asks if he needs to talk, but all he needs is for the world to make sense for a little while, so Y/N obliges in the best way she knows how.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 75





	Ratty Clothes and Metal Make the World Make Sense

With Spencer gone on a case for at least a couple of times, you loaded up on freelance work, but now the weekly budget was gone, you were done with your caseload and were bored as hell. Which meant time to headbang around the apartment to some classic metal. Judas Priest was calling your name.

With a smile, you pushed the laptop closed and hopped off the bed, slinging your pajamas across the room so you could steal one of Spencer’s t-shirts. Once, when you’d first started dating, during his Academy days, he’d told you that the music you listen to as a 13/14 year old is the kind that makes the biggest impression; it’s the kind you carry with you. Which made sense because you’d grown up on metal. It was the last thing you thought Spencer had grown up with, but he was just as big a fan as you, if not more so.

Metallica was his favorite. You’d teased about being a basic metal bitch, but he had no shame and you loved that about him. As you searched around in his drawers, you found an old, ratty black t-shirt from the Wherever We May Roam tour and slipped it on. A t-shirt and undies seemed like the way to go today.

Since you had no more work it was time for some fun, so you docked your iPod on the speakers, turned on United by Judas Priest and flung your hair around as you headbanged into the kitchen. Brownies were necessary. Thankfully, the only other person still home in the complex was Mrs. Schwartz from two doors down, but she was so old and deaf she probably had no idea you were listening to music at all.

Whenever you had free time, you made the same brownies. Years back you’d found a recipe for the “world’s fudgiest brownies,” which were fucking amazing. Instead of leaving them as is, you decided to add broken up peanut butter cups, because go big or go home, right?

After mixing up all your ingredients and popping them into the oven, you switched up your music, slipping into some Metallica – Enter Sandman specifically. Sure you teased Spencer about it, Metallica was what everyone thought when it came to metal, but they were great.

It didn’t take long for the apartment to fill with the smell of chocolate and peanut butter – man’s greatest creation if you did say so yourself. Nothing else was pressing so you decided to fall into the couch, enjoy the scent of brownies and listen to Metallica while you rested your eyes. Looking at a computer all day could seriously make your eyes tired.

“Hey.”

You panicked momentarily, not expecting anyone home. But it was just Spencer. “Babe, what are you doing home?” You jumped up and turned the music down before placing a kiss on his lips, the kind that lingered even though it wasn’t intended. “What’s wrong?”

“How do you do that?” He chuckled.

“I know you. You don’t have to be a profiler to see that something’s wrong, Dr. FBI. Bad case?”

“You could say that.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

He flinched. “Yes, but not right now,” he said, almost as if you’d be mad at him for saying so. “I could really use some Metallica and are you making those brownies again? I just need to world to stand still for a little while. To make sense, you know?”

“Yup,” you laughed, wrapping your arms around his waist. His clothes were so baggy. You needed to take him shopping one of these days. “We’ll talk later. How about you put on some pajamas and we’ll jam out to some of this.”

“Your boobs?” He laughed. “I mean I could definitely do that.”

“I meant Metallica, you goober. I stole your shirt cause it’s comfy. Although if getting up close and personal with my boobies helps you chill out, I am here for you.”

Spencer broke into a genuine smile for the first time since he’d gotten home. He would talk when he was ready. “I love you, you know that?”

“I do. But I always love hearing it.”

Spencer clasped your face in his hands and kissed you before running into the bedroom to get changed, emerging in a pair of flannel pants and one of your favorite baggy sweatshirts – a black, almost gray with age, hoodie with Iron Maiden in their trademark font on the front of it. “You steal mine, I steal yours,” he laughed. “Plus, this thing is comfy.”

“That’s why I love it and can’t part with it even though it has to be going on 15 years old.” The timer went off and you slipped away from Spencer for a moment to pull the brownies out of the oven, returning with two plates, a brownie on each. “It has peanut butter cups in it.”

“God, I lub you,” he replied, his mouth full and eyes wide with childhood joy. “Can you turn the music up? And then we can snuggle.”

“Do you have off for a day or two?” You asked, hopping into his lap stealing a bit of his brownie before diving into your own.

He could be clumsy at times, but he was quick as a cat and managed to grab your brownie and steal his bite back. “At least tomorrow, maybe the day after. Wanna listen to metal all day and make dinner together?”

“Sounds amazing,” you replied. “But we don’t have much in the refrigerator so we’ll have to go out in the morning for food. I’m thinking I’ll just go like this.”

He looked over you almost territorially. “You’ll put on pants though, right? Because no one else can have this,” he said softly, resting his hand on your leg. 

“Yea, I’ll put on jeans, but that’s about it.”

Standing up, he kissed your chocolate covered lips and grabbed you both a napkin. “Good enough for me. I’m keeping your sweatshirt on then.”

“Then we come home and rip them off each other and then make food?”

“That sounds better than the original Star Wars trilogy.”

“High praise!”


End file.
